


fills d’una terra tenaç

by meretricula



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 16:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6761110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meretricula/pseuds/meretricula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>...and it was during this summer uprising, which culminated in the Children's Coup, that the political acumen of the young Prince Andres, third and hitherto-overlooked son of King Johan III, became a byword in Catalunya, second only to his legendary kindness to all he encountered; deprived of all contact with his brothers, imprisoned by his father's murderers, and accompanied by only a single personal servant, who insisted on sharing his captivity, Prince Andres nevertheless orchestrated riots throughout the countryside and successfully staged the overthrow of the usurper Lord Rosell...</p>
</blockquote><p>
  <i>-A Political History of Catalunya from the War of Independence to Reconstruction</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	fills d’una terra tenaç

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stickmarionette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickmarionette/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Epistles from Bavaria](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822504) by [meretricula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meretricula/pseuds/meretricula). 



> This story takes place in meretricula and stickmarionette's royalty AU, and will probably not make much sense except in that context. It was written to accompany a fanmix which can be found [here](http://footie-springfling.tumblr.com/post/143923355086/).

"I won't leave you, your highness, so don't even ask," Victor pre-empted as soon as they'd been locked in the tower room — "for their safety," according to the guards that had been suborned by that traitor Rosell — and left alone. Prince Andres, even paler and wider-eyed than usual, started to laugh. 

"Under the circumstances, Victor, I really think you might call me by my Christian name," he managed once he had himself under control once more, although his voice was still slightly tinged with hysteria. "And I fear it's a bit late to ask anyone to leave." He waved a hand around to indicate their prison, more opulently decorated than the dungeon but no less secure. Beyond the locked door no doubt lurked more guards, and the single window overlooked the cobblestones of the courtyard, hundreds of yards below. The only escape by that route led straight to the grave. 

"I'm sure your lord brother will have the situation under control directly," Victor said comfortingly. 

"No," Andres said. He did not look comforted. "No, Rosell would never have dared to move against Lord Father like this unless he was confident in his ability to neutralize Pep. And Xavi is in Madrid, which will make it difficult for him to influence matters. I wonder if Rosell had planned this in advance, and Xavi's marriage only played into his hands, but it was such a shock when Lord Father announced their betrothal... If he is acting on impulse, there may be weaknesses in his plans we can exploit." The longer he spoke, the calmer he seemed, so Victor put aside his disquiet at hearing his prince sound so much like his older brothers. Outside, a drum began to roll, and Andres rose to go to the window, his forehead creased. "What on earth is happening down there?"

Victor realized a split second before the herald began reading his list of jumped-up charges what they were listening to. "Get away from the window!" he said sharply. Andres stood frozen at the window, staring down at the courtyard. "Close your eyes and cover your ears. _Andres_ ," he pleaded. When Andres still only stood there, Victor went over to him and physically pulled him away from the window, pressing Andres' face against his chest and putting his own hands over his ears. The herald went on, but Victor only listened long enough to confirm that Rosell had indeed decided to justify his treason in turn as the overthrow of a traitorous despot before he turned his attention back to Andres, who had begun to cry quietly into his shirt. "Shh, shh," he said, and then, for lack of a better idea, started to hum. He ran through his entire repertoire of half-remembered lullabies and had to start on the drinking songs Saviola in the stables had taught him before the courtyard went suddenly, horribly silent. Andres shuddered, then stood up straight and wiped his face on his sleeve. 

"Pep must have escaped," he said, voice trembling but clear. "Rosell would be a fool to let him live, if he had captured him. That is good news, at least." 

"Yes, of course," Victor agreed quickly. "I'm certain Prince Josep will return to rid the court of Rosell as soon as he can regroup." 

"You don't understand," Andres said, more impatient than Victor had ever heard him sound. "Pep can't do anything while Rosell has me; neither can Xavi. That's why Rosell locked me in here instead of killing me along with — along with Lord Father. We'll have to rid the court of Rosell ourselves. Knock at the door, please? I wish to speak with the guards." 

"What can you possibly want to say to those traitors?" Victor demanded, scowling. 

"I don't believe they are traitors," Andres said. "I didn't recognize any of them, did you? I think that Rosell hired mercenaries from outside Catalunya, so that my family would mean nothing to them. There is no treason in dethroning a king if he is not your own." 

"So what can you possibly want to say to those _mercenaries_ , then?" 

"If we're going to get out of this alive, I need to make my family mean something to them," Andres said. "Pep and Xavi are better at it, but they're not here. It'll have to be me."


End file.
